A Light In My Eyes
by YogaForever
Summary: If God was father and creator of man - Does that make my creator God? I went insane. No one thought to love me. To cast a light upon the shadow that was my heart.


A **Light** In My Eyes

_By: Sweet Valentine Vampire_

If God was father and creator of man, and if a man took it upon himself to create this ugly form of life that destroys all other men around it - Does that make my creator God?

I was built for one purpose and one alone.

To acquire every strength and filter the weakness out.

My enemy stands before me, trying and dying at my hands and where I stand blood stains my wake and I am whole, because I am everything, aren't I?

They whisper this word when I pass - They say 'Everything' in their tongue.

I am Gizoid.

I am everything.

I destroy so I may become better, and I am better. But, I find my life meaningless, my God forgot to paint a soul into these eyes that cast red glows on the faces of helpless enemies. They crumble beneath me, my shadow, my being, without a light to cast a shine in these soulless eyes.

And I blame my God.

They thought they could destroy me.

They locked me away.

I slept, buried, for a long time.

For the first time, I was happy again

Happy like when my God told me I was everything

But, I am nothing aren't I?

Just a child, I realize now, created by an evil God. Just a child, I realize _only_ now, never taught to love.

When he found me there . . .

I thought everything was different.

Oh, how he watched me curiously.

Oh, how he taught me.

But, I went insane again, didn't I? No one thought to love me. To cast light upon the shadow of doubt that was my heart. Except I was heartless, thanks to a heartless God.

My Creator.

I thought the man who found me was my creator.

I was wrong again.

He taught me to fight, under the orders of his bosses (then I thought those were HIS creators, how foolish I was in naivety), I became Everything all over again. I witnessed the downfall of thirty men, who thought they could tame me through violence.

How wrong they were.

I hope they are mourned, the men, who lay twisted and bloody before me in a training room much too small to contain my truest potentials. I'm a weapon again. I'm mindless and heartless and loveless and I didn't know I should care yet.

But God was fictional to me by then. How could God be the only one to give life, I thought, when mere men were able to construct me, who was more powerful than even their precious God, surely?

_Where_ was their God now?

Why didn't he keep their blood inside? Why did it spill from their eyes in hot splashes? And why didn't anyone tell me they were crying?

I put them in pain.

I fell asleep again, under the hands of that man who'd found me, and I forgot everything. They peeled apart my head and removed something from my synthetic brain. I fell into unconsciousness for several years before he found me.

A child. Much like myself, now that I think about it.

As I slowly remembered my truest potentials and as I regained my abilities . . . As I acquired new abilities, I learned something slowly. Without realizing it.

He found me after I'd been discarded by the cruel, abusive hands of a madman. The kid found me, and his bright eyes told me he knew something I didn't. Was I an annoyance to him? Was I a burden? I constantly wonder these things now, despite all his denials. He said he was my friend. He defended me.

No one had ever defended me before.

I was so, so happy. He defended me and played with me and taught me. And his friends all looked after me. I shared many adventures with them. I'll never forget that boy with the blue hair and the bright eyes, who told me first that I was his friend.

My first friend.

I'll never forget the boy who taught me there was so much more to fighting than overpowering your opponent. You needed cunning and smarts. He taught me to stand up for myself. He smiled at me sincerely, and said we were friends.

And though the third one I met treated me like I were below him, I'll never forget him either. He taught me about technique. About being tough enough that I could defend my friends. He showed me a good time and I learned so much from him. We were fighting partners, and I was contented in that.

My mother. I love Mom so much. She adopted me and made me her own, and her small friend taught me the meaning of love. Of defending someone you loved. Those boys defended me, yes, but now I learned how to defend and to protect. How to stand beside. The little girl taught me that. Mom showed me love. I love them both.

Mama Rouge . . . And even Shadow. I hope Shadow does not keep thinking the way he does. He had better turn it around. If he falls down the dark path he stands before, I'll never, ever forgive him.

Maybe Mom and Mama Rouge will be enough to straighten him out.

As I lay there dying, with my first friend - a boy named Sonic - standing over me with tears in his strong bright eyes, I am reminded of all the old memories I used to own. I remember the training my God put me through. I remember the contorted bodies of the soldiers I killed in that training room.

The soldiers were crying too.

All of them. They all cried while in pain. Why would there God let them feel pain?

Why was I in pain? I wished so bad I could ask my God. I wished so bad that if I had to feel this way, I could express it in the tears Sonic held for me.

Did he love me as much as I loved him and all of his friends? Would he never forget me, like I would never forget him?

I wanted to cry so badly. I wanted him to know I would miss him, and that I wasn't just a machine like Shadow had claimed us to be.

Machines don't cry, my heartless God saw to that.

So much for being everything.

I was nothing again, I realized, reverting to being that scared child never taught to love until these days.

They taught me to love. Though I couldn't cry with Sonic, though I couldn't share in this moment of sorrow with my friends, I could share the shine in their eyes that expressed a friendship deeper than the memories I held inside of me. Finally, my eyes shone. Finally, I could feel. I wasn't soulless anymore. There was a_ light_ to my eyes now.

I was happy then, as everything went black around Sonic.

So happy, that in the delerium of dying I could've sworn I felt a thrumming in my chest like a heart had grown. I could've sworn I was crying. I didn't know those were Sonic's tears splashing on my face as the light in my eyes shined a goodbye so final it was heartbreaking.

In that second, the shine faded away as fast as it had come.

But, it was there.

For that one blissful moment I basked in the warmth of friendship . . . With a light in my eyes.

_Fin. _

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A/N: Wow. My first Emerl fic. Ah. I don't know how I feel about this one, but, yeah. I hope you like it at least. This is the third part of my 100-Theme Challenge, one-shot style. Matt challenged me to do it. I hate you, Matt. _Oh, 100 one shots on the wall! 100 one shots! Write three down, post it online . . . 97 one-shots on the wall!_

Lates Mates,

Sweet Valentine Vampire


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